Pariah
by Snowskeeper
Summary: A Chaos Sorcerer becomes a Pariah?
1. Chapter 1

Dreams...

Blood pounded through his thoughts, Khorne screaming in rage and slamming into him, only to be replaced by Tzeentch, who stared coldly at him and blasted him with purple energy. Nurgle fell out of space as Tzeentch dissolved, and then swapped places with Slaneesh, who racked him with pleasure, so much it hurt, causing him to fall onto the ground writhing. And in the distance, in the foreground, in the sky, a single figure, cloaked in darkness, watched, laughing all the while...

He awoke suddenly, and reached for the reassuring presence of his staff. He was a servant of Chaos Undivided, a sorcerer, and the shipmaster of this particular barge, the _Kraken_. His hand only grasped air, though, and the Sorcerer opened his eyes. He saw everything through a slightly green film, but everything was clearer than with his normal eyes.

He moved to the door, his feet making loud clanking sounds on the metal floor, and tried to open it, tapping the green button. It didn't slide open, though, merely beeping twice. Frowning, he knocked on the door. He heard something on the other side.

"What is the meaning of this? Open the door before I call down the might of Chaos Undivided on your pitiful little skull!" He noticed that his voice had a slightly metallic tinge to it, but he didn't pay any attention to it, treating it as he would treat a slight cough.

"You have no more power over the servants of Chaos! You are no more Shipmaster Shar than you are a Daemon Prince!" He could practically here the fool's smile. He slammed his fist into the door, and made a dent in it. But that wasn't what got his attention. His skin was made purely out of metal.

In shock and fear, he backed away, nearly crying out.

_Ah, you finally noticed. Was wondering when you would. _The Sorcerer cast around for the voice, attempting to summon a spell to his hands. But instead of a large, dark-purple blast of electricity crackling to life in his hands, the only thing that appeared was a pitiful green spark, bouncing off his metallic palms and fizzling out on the floor.

"Wha... What is this? What are you?"

_I think the real question is... What are you? _

Calming down slightly, the Sorcerer asked "Alright then, what am I?"

_That's better. You are an experiment. I want to see what happens when I leave a Pariah with all its emotions, like a human with a metal shell. If you are killed, you will be turned into a normal Pariah. You've already interested me, actually. I was wondering whether the so-called 'magic' would remain with you after the change. _

"And?" The Sorcerer sneered.

_You actually kept more than I thought._

"So, what do you want?"

_I want you to stay alive- well, not die, as long as possible. If you can give me information that's useful, I'll consider reverting you to your natural form. See you later!_

"Wait-" But it was too late. It was already gone.

**New story!**


	2. Chapter 2

The newly created Pariah gaped in astonishment at what he had just learned. Apparently, he was now a horrifying fusion of metal and man, where before he had been a glorious fusion of man and daemon. This was impossible. He had to change it. In his blind need to return to the way he had been before, he forgot his obligation to serve Chaos. Even if he had remembered it, even if he had chosen freely to abandon Chaos, none would really question it, or even judge it that harshly. After all, almost all the forces of Chaos were traitors in the first place.

The Sorcerer/Necron cross-breed turned back towards the door, his earlier fear forgotten in a need to serve the C'tan. He charged at the door- and bounced off. A sizeable dent had been left where he collided, however, so he tried again. This time, the door went flying off its hinges, and he walked through it, triumphant- to be met with the barrel of a Bolter.

"You aren't going anywhere, Necron. You're going right back into that cage, so that you can be sacrificed later in the name of- Urk!" This last statement was uttered when the Pariah reached forward and grasped the foolish Chaos Marine around the neck, almost instantly crushing through the Ceramite with the fierce rage of the grasp and crushing the windpipe. The Marine gurgled for a few more seconds, before suddenly becoming very, very quiet. The Pariah picked up the Bolter, carefully removing the trigger-guard to allow for his bigger fingers, and moved along the corridor towards the bridge.

On the same, the new commander, a recently appointed Chaos Lord, turned towards the security officer, a brawny Chaos Champion wielding a wickedly-glowing power sword in one hand and a bolt-pistol in the other. The Chaos Champion stiffened slightly at the glare, but showed no other signs that it intimidated him as much as it did.

"So, you're telling me that a lone Necron killed your 'best' guard, robbed him of his weapon, and is now moving through a ship full of highly trained, ruthless, chaos-worshiping Space Marines, with only his hands and a single Bolter to aid him, and is advancing unopposed? And that you have not done anything to stop him?"

"Sir, as I said before, I was awaiting your orders before doing so-"  
"You don't need my official sanction to remove something that escaped from the brig that YOU PUT THERE YOURSELF!" This last phrase was shouted, and they carried Demonic power with them. Several heretics died, and a dozen more cowered against walls or behind their terminals.

"Now, you will lead an attack against this Necron, you will recover his head, legendary phasing technology or no, and you will return here. You will then sacrifice yourself to Chaos, in the hope that your soul will be immortalized by the Blood God, and that I do not hunt down your soul yourself. Is that clear, marine?" The Chaos Lord said in a very, very quiet and menacing tone. The remaining heretics fled the room.

"Yes sir." The Chaos Champion stood still for a few seconds, and made hand gestures as if conversing silently with someone not actually there, then left the room to hunt the Necron.

The Pariah was half way to the bridge when the first sign of resistance appeared. Or, rather, leapt straight at him screaming one of the many battle-cries of chaos. A chainsword spun in his hand, its devastating teeth spinning around the blade like monstrous molars waiting to crush their food. The Marine was halted, however, by a sudden tirade of bolter fire. One shell slammed into his face, sending bone fragments and bits of brain flying out in a shower of blood. The rest impacted on his upper body, mangling it so much that there was literally nothing recognizable left of the chest or ribcage. The Pariah regarded his kill with cold arrogance, wondering why this fool had even bothered to attack him with so weak a weapon, then, with reluctance, shifted the bolter to his left hand, grasping his newly acquired Chainsword in his right.

Just in time, too, as several more Marines leapt out of hiding directly above him, forcing him to roll backwards to avoid the stomp of their power-armoured feet. He came up firing, rounds slamming into the armour, some doing nothing more than stun but most doing devastating damage against the armoured soldiers. While their comrades lay bleeding out on the ground, the remaining Marines charged with a single, unified cry of "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" Swinging their various chainswords straight at his neck. With a seemingly effortless motion, he batted the blades away with the side of his, loading their faces with bolter rounds that subsequently exploded.

But for some reason, one of them didn't seem able to die. His gloved hands suddenly exploded outwards, to be replaced by demonic tentacles. And the rest of his body fared no better, ripping and contorting, somehow still wearing the power armour but other than that, there was no semblance to the original body. "SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" This newly possessed Marine cried and swung his tentacles at the Pariah. He slashed them off, but as soon as he could remove them more replaced the destroyed ones, and he was slowly losing ground.

He swung in one last desperate strike- and, when it wasn't batted aside, when indeed the flow of mindless gabble and battlecries ceased, he looked up. His Chainsword, still turned on, still eating hungrily, was wedged firmly in the Marine's neck. It gurgled, bits of flesh and blood still flying away, and collapsed nearly soundlessly to the ground with a thud. The Pariah turned to continue...

To find the Chaos Champion staring straight at him.

"You think I'm just going to let you leave, after seeing the ferocity and deadly strength you just exhibited? After seeing that, a bloodlust greater than any I ever felt before, even in the heat of the battle against the cursed Imperium. You will die, and I will achieve ascendancy because of it." The Champion's sword glowed even brighter, as if in anticipation, and the bolter let out an unearthly scream to equal anything an Eldar Banshee could unleash. In silence and in fury, the Pariah and the Chaos Champion Charged.

At the last second, the Pariah feinted to the right, and the Champion slashed in that direction, only to feel a fist slam into his helmeted head. He collided with the wall, and, growling, aimed his bolt pistol at the Pariah, squeezing off two rounds into it's chest. With a roar of rage that startled even the Champion, the Pariah brought his Bolter to bear, and fired straight into wear he knew the Chaos Champion's mouth was beneath the helmet. The Champion's head exploded, sending blood, skull, fragments, and thousands of chunks of gore around the hall.

"Blood for the Blood God." The Pariah muttered, and continued down the hall, not even pausing to clean the blood from his body.

**Bit bloodier than I usually write, but this is a Chaos story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**On to the next chapter! Hopefully I'll do as good a job on this one as I felt I did on the last one, and way better than I thought I did on the first one!**

The Champion's Power-Sword clenched in the Pariah/Sorcerer cross-breed's right hand, the bolter in it's left, it proceeded down the hallway. Without the commanding presence of the Security Officer, there was little or no enemy interference. The Chaos Lord had not yet noticed that the Chaos Champion had fallen, and as such had not taken matters into his own hands. The few Cultists and Marines that did see him were quickly cut down, like stalks of wheat before the scythe, their souls harvested for the C'tan that the Pariah did not yet know.

Only once did the Pariah run into any resistance. In the last possible second, before entering the bridge of the Chaos Battle-barge, the Pariah ran into a huge patchwork of Daemon-infested Marines, Cultists, blood-stained machines, and a single Dreadnought, clutching two flamers instead of the usual Assault Cannons to prevent damage to the bridge door, or the floors, or, for that matter, any part of the hallway. It wasn't that it was scared of breaking anything; it was that if it did, the assault cannons would probably cause a fatal hull breach, this close to the bridge.

The Pariah's bolter cut down the front rows of Cultists quick enough, spraying blood over the corridor. Far from dampening the spirits of the remainder, though, it spurred them into a frenzy of bloodlust, causing them to surge forward so strongly they nearly overwhelmed the deadly combination of living metal and flesh. Only it's experience with swords, it's enhanced strength, and it's supremely cunning mind allowed it to survive. That, and the fact that it's current weapon was a Power-Sword, whereas the best even the Marines had were badly-dented, poorly cared for chain-swords.

When the last Marine was destroyed, and his soul swiftly on its way to where it would either be consumed or transformed into a servant of the Star Gods, he suddenly thought of something. Whenever he had met a Pariah in battle before, a common occasion in the fight against the Necrons, they had clutched in their hands a strange combination of one of their Gauss weapons and a huge staff-like weapon with a large blade on the end. This blade had cut through even the strongest of armour, destroying tanks and cutting apart Marines alike with apparent ease, and leaving not a speck of blood in their wake but that caused by the shrapnel of the tanks.

He quickly doubled back to where he remembered the captured weapons were stored, hoping that maybe he had been granted one of these strange and wonderful weapons when he had been transformed. He would have wished that perhaps the blood would have remained, but otherwise...

He looked around the room quickly, hoping that the weapon would be there, but he didn't see anything for a second. His shoulders drooped in disappointment, he turned to go... but just as he turned, he saw a staff lying against the wall, green energy chambers pulsing with constrained energy, and he instantly grabbed it, his elation ringing throughout the metallic body.

Then, he turned towards the door. To see the Chaos Lord waiting.


	4. Chapter 4

The Chaos Lord grinned behind his helmet, his Daemonic weapon howling as it urged him to strike now, feed it blood, feed it pain, feed it violence. The Chaos Lord simply ignored it. He was used to it by now. The Pariah watched him. He knew who this upstart was. There was a chance that the Pariah would have won with just the Power Sword and Bolter, but with the Warscythe... If he had had the ability to change his facial expression, he might have grinned. This was turning out to be more fun than he had thought.

"If there's one thing that me and the Imperials agree upon, it's that heretics are frowned upon." The Chaos Lord drawled. "Not heretics in the imperial sense for me though. Oh no. It's the heretics who go against everything that is proven. For example, we know that the God Emperor is real, and that the Gods of Chaos are real. But we _don't _know about the so-called Necron Star Gods. So _that's _heresy, true heresy, in my eyes." The Pariah slowly became more and more enraged as he heard this rant upon heresy portrayed to him by one of the worst traitors that lived.

This man had once been a chapter master in the Space Marine chapter Hissing Fangs. The Hissing Fangs were no longer recorded, for good reason. The Chaos Lord had left the light of the Imperium, bringing his whole chapter with him. He went back to his home-planet, and performed an act of rape and slaughter in the names of Slannesh and Khorne. He himself raped and mutilated his own wife, sister, and daughter. He did the same to more than half the population of his home planet. Then he returned to his own chapter-world, killed the remaining Space-Marines there, and performed the same vile act on that planet. So it continued until he was finally picked up by the Sorcerer's fleet. And he had the nerve to call him a traitor.

"_Traitors have no right to call others traitors, lest they become traitors again." _A voice spoke from nowhere. It was the same voice, the voice of a C'tan, that spoke now. _"Likewise, those who say that they can kill the other easily may end up dead, without any chance of resurrection. Choose wisely." _

"How can you believe that you have the right to threaten, to insult me! You will be dead before this hour ends!" And with that, he charged, swinging his blade like an executioners axe. The blade was parried without any effort. It was if the Pariah was born clutching this scythe in his hand. Which, he supposed he had been. Reborn, at any rate. Amazed, the Chaos Lord tried firing his bolt pistol instead. That was deflected as well.

The Chaos Lord had not got where he was by mere brute strength and perversion. He also had the cunning of Nurgle, and the willingness to change of Tzeentch. So he surrendered. He raised his hands, put them behind his head. He waited for the chains.

His waiting never ended. He was decapitated, strangely without any blood, by the blade that came whistling through the air. As his body lay disintegrating, the Pariah made his way to the bridge once more.

The door was easily opened, the Lord had not thought to program the lock to only respond to him. Or even only humans and Daemons. The Pariah casually slaughtered everyone in the bridge, and then, allowing the slavering masses of Heretics to believe that they were still in control, began directing a course.

_Congratulations. You have defeated the Chaos Forces aboard your ship. You may now work your way backwards, to your reward._

His reward.

What reward?

**Complete! Read and review all the same, but that's all on this story, folks!**


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